


All I Want For Christmas

by MysteryFicAnon



Series: Happy Holidays 2019 [3]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Brotherly Angst, Brotherly Bonding, Brotherly Love, Depression, Gen, Gyftmas, Sans (Undertale) Remembers Resets, Sort Of, Struggling, resets mentioned, soul pains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:27:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22039309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysteryFicAnon/pseuds/MysteryFicAnon
Summary: An angsty fic featuring classic Sans and Papyrus, inspired by the dialogue prompt: "Just smile. I really need you to smile right now."
Series: Happy Holidays 2019 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1584091
Comments: 4
Kudos: 53





	All I Want For Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> This was beta read by the lovely thycutterofmuchcookiez, thank you!
> 
> I hope you like this silver!!! You're an amazing friend, and you deserve the best <3

Sans was at the end of his rope. He’d slept maybe 4 hours over the past 2 days, and all of his jobs were filled with mobs because of the season. Holidays were always a clusterfuck, with even more humans crawling underfoot or trying to get time off and shirk their work onto him. He couldn't remember if he’d even done anything in the last few hours of his shift, but he must have, because now he was on the way home. His magic was too drained for a shortcut, so he was forced to ride the bus with a crowd of noisy humans.

This was fine, though. Sans could deal. He’d had worse back Underground, when days like this would stretch and repeat over and over like the clocks were somehow broken, but they just kept on ticking, counting down to a— Sans’ phone buzzed, and he jumped a little. He pulled it out of his pocket, smiling when he saw the text notification from his little bro.

It would be worth it in the end. Paps was the reason he’d been pulling so many shifts in the first place. In three days, Sans would have enough cash to finally make a down payment and give Paps the car of his dreams. Sure, the van that he was driving was functional, but Paps could barely fit in the front of it. Sans knew his bro, and he knew Papyrus was not happy with that van. They were up on the surface. Sans should be able to afford to give his brother the nice things he’d always dreamed of. That was what a good brother did.

He opened the text, finding a selfie of Papyrus in an apron posing with a pasta dish. He shook himself out of his autopilot just long enough to text back a pun, then closed the phone. He had to save his energy for when he got home so Paps didn't notice anything was off. He knew his brother probably had an idea of what was going on, but he didn't want him to worry too much. Sans could take care of himself well enough to survive, and that was all that mattered.

Sans didn't even realize he’d closed his eyes until his body jerked awake, the memory of having to yank the cord for his stop engrained into him after months of training. He somehow felt even more tired, barely able to move his arm enough to request his stop. He pushed himself to his feet, feeling like a walking corpse as he shambled towards the back of the bus. He almost fell over when the bus driver braked suddenly, but he couldn’t even muster up any irritation about it.

The two block walk from the bus stop to their house felt like it was simultaneously in slow motion and going too fast. Sans’ chest was aching, the phantom pain from a scar that didn't exist anymore making it difficult for him to breathe. He shook his head to try and clear some of the cotton from it, determinedly shuffling forward. It took several minutes of strenuous effort, but he finally managed to scale their front steps and shove his key into the lock.

Before he could turn the key, the door opened. Papyrus was standing right there, looking worried. Sans smiled out of habit, but he knew that it was shaky at best.

“Hello, Sans.” Papyrus stepped aside and gestured for Sans to walk towards the kitchen. “Please sit down.”

Damn, he looked serious. Sans couldn't bring himself to look at Papyrus, pretending to focus on slowly kicking off his sneakers and dropping his hat and gloves on the floor. The smell of delicious pasta wafted from the kitchen, but Papyrus stayed right next to Sans in the front hall.

Sans forced himself to move a little faster, putting on his fuzzy house slippers and walking into the kitchen. Papyrus was right behind him; he couldn't falter. He slumped into his usual seat, barely resisting the urge to let his skull thunk down on the table.

Papyrus folded his hands, intently examining his gloves as he spoke. “Sans, I know you aren't doing well.” 

Papyrus had never been one to shy away from confrontation, but he got nervous when he was talking to Sans about his health. They’d talked about this before, and Sans had promised to be a little better about it. He wasn't breaking his promise, he _had_ been doing well. He was just having a rough patch. That was normal. Sans tried to focus when Papyrus kept speaking, doing his best not to nod off.

“I don’t know why you aren't sleeping or why you’re working so much, but you look awful. I’ve been giving you the best food I can and trying to get you to rest and watch television with me, but nothing seems to work. I… I’m worried Sans. I just want to help you, but I don’t know what to do.” Papyrus was wringing his hands, and it sounded like he was struggling not to cry.

Well, didn't Sans feel like a shitty brother. There was a sick irony about making his brother sad to get him something nice, and it made Sans feel nauseous. He’d been busy lately, but he should have been more aware of how Papyrus was feeling. How many times had he brushed his brother off in the past week? How many times had he left an uneaten lunch because he didn't have time to take a break?

Sans didn't even have the capacity to filter himself any more. His voice came out raw, sounding just as tired as he felt. “Please Paps, just smile. I really need you to smile right now.”

Papyrus’ face wobbled for a moment, and he took a deep breath. He closed his eyes, straightening up a little. He tried his best to smile, but it couldn't reach his eyes. His eyelights were wobbling in his sockets, and it made Sans’ soul hurt. He put his head in his hands, a single soft whimper breaking through his dam of cheer.

“I’m sorry… I’m only going to be happy when I know that _you_ are happy too, Sans.” Papyrus was outwardly crying now, pale orange tears streaking down his cheekbones. He was trying his best to hold his sniffles in, but snot was running down his mandible. It was kind of gross, but that only made Sans love him more. He stood up, sweeping Sans up into a tight hug. “I love you so much Sans! I just want to make sure you’re doing okay.”

“I love you too, ‘m sorry Paps.” Sans closed his eyes and leaned into the embrace, raising one arm and wrapping it around Papyrus.

He lost track of how long they stood there, hugging each other tightly. Sans’ ribs were aching a little, but he didn't care. He could feel Papyrus shaking a little, and he didn't exactly want Papyrus to put him down right now either. He could feel tears soaking through the shoulder of his hoodie, and the front of Papyrus’ shirt was probably the same. It was comforting for Papyrus to hold him like this, and Sans nuzzled into his brother’s shoulder.

Eventually both of their sobbing fits subsided, and they were just leaning against each other. Sans hadn’t cried like this since he was a babybones, and even if it felt good, it left him drained. He didn't know if he would actually sleep tonight, but he was exhausted. He tilted his head a little, looking up at Papyrus.

Papyrus gently smiled down at him, patting his skull. He glanced over at the table, and Sans followed his gaze. There was a lovely meal set out, but it would all be ice cold by now.

“I should reheat this,” Papyrus said, shifting Sans in his arms so he had one hand free. He picked up one of the plates, walking back over to the stove and carefully setting it down next to the pan.

“Thanks bro. You’re the best.” Sans really meant it when he said that, and he managed to muster up a small, genuine smile.

“Thank you brother.” Papyrus beamed back with his usual cheer, patting Sans’ skull as he set him back down in his chair. He couldn't cook with only one hand, after all. “As a reward for my excellent brotherly services, I am expecting you to watch the new MTT Unlimited Christmas Telethon with me!”

Honestly, it was kind of a stupid joke. Sans knew that, and Papyrus probably did too. That didn't stop both of them from bursting out laughing, giggles and snorts ringing out in the kitchen. As they laughed together, Sans felt like things might actually end up being alright.


End file.
